


Go Together

by leoandlancer



Series: Overwatch Standalones [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Confessions, Deepthroating, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Junkrat's pretty persistent though, M/M, Mutual Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Roadhog is difficult, Roadhog knows best, Shameless Smut, backhanded confessions, just kiss, no he doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoandlancer/pseuds/leoandlancer
Summary: Roadhog's been struggling to confront some awkwardly misplaced feelings about his employer that he can't ignore any longer. The feelings shouldn't matter, as it's not really love, and it's certainly not reciprocated, and anyway, Roadhog's the worst thing in Junkrat's life now they're in Overwatch. He's caught by surprise when Junkrat flatly disagrees.(Honestly I love these two and I think they should hook up and be happy about it, at last.)





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Junkrat died, Roadhog stopped dead in his tracks. His heart skipped a beat in panicked shock and he choked on stale air inside his mask. Junkrat died, right in front of him. His skinny body arching out as it was torn apart by enemy fire. All the singed hair and scars and tattoos and the long, lean, half starved lines of muscle and heavy prosthetics; Junkrat's body lying broken in over his riptire. Total Mayhem activated, five grenades Junkrat had rigged on him to go off when he died exploded just as the enemy Reaper ran past him. It brought him down hard. 

Junkrat came back, just like Winston had assured them, bounding back into the fight on his mismatched feet as fierce and wild as ever. The simulation went on, under the Grecian sun or through a russian winter, and Junkrat died and died and died while Roadhog watched. 

The memory of it woke him the first night. Roadhog sat bolt up right out of a cold sweat on the huge bed Winston had provided for him, gasping for air. Before he knew what he was doing his hands had found his mask in the dark and had pulled it safely over his face. His fingers were already tightening the straps, the filters clicking and sighing as he heaved in breath after breath. 

Junkrat had died. Would again, and again, over and over in the training simulations. His skinny, obnoxious, totally insane employer blasted from above by rockets, torn apart by rifle fire, sniped from above. Lying under the cumbersome weight of that riptire with an arrow through his singed skull.

There had been times when Roadhog had wanted to kill him, choke the damn life out of the jumped up little shit. Junkrat wasn't scared of Roadhog, had never shown a shred of the fear Roadhog had come to know and use in others. There'd been times Roadhog had wanted to crack Junkrat open and cram some fear into his scrawny body himself. 

But he'd put it off. Refrained. Lost interest and now he was sitting holding his trembling hands over his mask and watching Junkrat die, over and over in the charred hellscape of his own imagination. 

He had been hired to keep the little runt alive. He'd been hired as a bodyguard. Then Junkrat had been caught. They’d been jerked out of a heist by the flickering ghost of a British time traveler and her gorilla friend. Who had made it clear that the only way to avoid the international criminal charges pending on them was to accept amnesty and onus to the fledgling Overwatch. It had been a deal aimed at Junkrat. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that Roadhog might not stay with him.

It certainly hadn't occurred to Roadhog. 

He'd been hired to keep Junkrat alive. It had never occurred to him that there might come a day when failing in that objective would wake him in a cold sweat out of a nightmare. 

Would he have felt like this if it had been another Junker that killed Junkrat? On some dusty, sun-baked road back in Australia? Or if any of their robberies had gone bad, would he have had to hold that broken body and watched it die? He hadn't cared before. He hadn't always cared. He didn't actually know when he'd started to care but here he did now. He was shaking in a cold sweat, sitting up at two in the morning with his heart pounding in terror now. 

The obnoxious little shit didn't even know his name. The horrible, mouthy little runt of a Junker didn't care about him, that at least was a perfectly sound piece of knowledge. Whatever was tormenting Roadhog, whatever woke him screaming at the thought of Junkrat dying, it wasn't reciprocated. 

That thought, hard fact though it was, wasn’t comforting. It just made him lower his head slowly, pressing his mask against his face with both hands as his fingers shook.

The next day in the simulation, Roadhog managed to hook Junkrat. 

He wasn't really aiming for him, Junkrat was nimble and never stopped moving. So Roadhog was surprised when he managed to throw his hook perfectly, the chain paying out in one long, sweet arc. Then Junkrat was just a heavy weight on the chain, stunned and helpless, as Roadhog jerked him in. Roadhog caught his breath, leveled his weapon, and fired the scrap-gun directly into Junkrat's skinny chest. 

Junkrat died. The blasts of the Mayhem grenades tore up half of Roadhog's health, as he backed away, already clamping a Breather to his mask and panting in the gas that healed him. 

He was back to full health. Junkrat's twisted body faded from the simulation. The battle went on. 

Junkrat jogged back into the fight moments later, the battle went on as it always did. Roadhog died three times, not really paying attention the first time as Tracer zipped past him over and over. Or the second time as Phara landed a couple of direct hits on him before he even bothered to look up. It didn’t really register.

The dying didn't hurt, not really, once your mind got used to it, it was just damage. It became simply frustrating.

Then Junkrat killed him the last time, and Roadhog noticed that. Roadhog felt the steel teeth of the trap snap into his leg and he roared in pain, already knowing what had happened, what was coming. He’d seen it happen to others often enough. He looked up and panic tore every rational thought out of his head. Grenades were falling past him, Junkrat was perched on the roof of the huge 18 wheeler, bared teeth and smoke and glowing hair and wild eyes locked on Roadhog. 

"Guess we know who's really on top, don't we?" 

Roadhog died.

He was still in the spawn room, staring blankly at the far wall when Athena announced his team had been defeated. The simulation ended with a brief recognition of the play of the game (not Junkrat, thankfully), and his scores (abysmal), before the simulation terminated. He shoved the helmet off and fumbled his mask back into place as he sat up out of his pod, his heart still hammering and breath still coming short.  

He felt sick through the evening. He didn’t hear a word that had been spoken through their debriefing and evening free time. He went to his quarters early and lay flat on his back staring at the ceiling through the scuffed lenses of his mask and wondered what the hell he was doing here.

He could hear Junkrat playing a game with the little Korean girl, Hana. The slip of a thing had seemed toy-like to Roadhog the first time he'd seen her. But she was powerful, and a valuable ally to have, and irritatingly hard to kill. And she was teaching Junkrat about all the video games he'd missed in his short life, spent primarily scrambling through irradiated junk. 

Roadhog didn't begrudge Junkrat this chance to discover something he could have loved if he had been born in another time, or another place. He wished they weren't so loud about it though. 

He heard Lucio join them, and then Roadhog could hear Genji's voice, and pauses in the low conversation that must mean the horrible floating omnic was there too. Then Junkrat’s laughter came up to Roadhog’s tiny, dark room and that jerked him upright and out of bed.

Junkrat's body snapping back and slumping into lifeless meat. The weight of that wiry body on the end of his hook. Junkrat standing above him with his teeth bared in a grin, dropping grenade after grenade on him. 

_ Guess we know who's really on top, don't we. _

Roadhog had suspected something when Winston and Tracer had caught them. He’d shrugged the thought off at the time, but now it was getting unignorable. Junkrat didn't need him here. Roadhog could demand his fifty percent of the treasure and spilt. The contract holding Junkrat could be changed to let Roadhog out, he’d never been part of the original deal. Junkrat had needed him before. He didn’t now, and Roadhog didn’t have to be here. He’d take his chances with the international police force or retire to prison. Anything but this.

The common room was light and warm as Roadhog reached it. Genji was playing a match of some fighting game against Junkrat, while Dva coached him on and Lucio offered tips and cheats to the room at large. Zenyatta was floating like an ominous, flat reminder of all that omnics could do, and Tracer was there, laughing with him. They were talented young warriors, but they were kids, and looked thick as thieves together. They looked happy in a way Roadhog hadn’t seen in years. 

Roadhog passed the room unnoticed. 

The waters of the Mediterranean were warm, with an ebbing tide and flat still in windless autumn night. The cliff was sheer under the launch pad, but someone years ago had driven steel staples into the rock as a ladder. It led down to a sullen little spit of skree and crushed concrete which was the closest thing to a beach the island had. Roadhog hooked his chain to the top rung and used that to manage the ladder where it had rusted out. He never missed the long sandy beaches of his hometown more than when he came here.  

He left his chest holster, boots, armor, gauntlets, and his rings piled on the lowest rung of the ladder, then pulled off his mask and carefully set that on top. Feeling oddly light in just his overalls, he walked out into the water until he found the drop off. The water was dark around him, and the light from the base was a yellow glow in the humid air above. Away over the sea, the lights of the mainland made a long, swirling lines on the water. 

He pushed out and forward, and let himself sink down into deep water. 

Sound died, light died, and slowly his brain stopped running through the same nightmares over and over. The water let him sink, then buoyed him up until he let out the breath he'd been holding. Airless, he hung suspended a little under the surface of the water, eyes shut and heart beginning to flutter. This was panic he knew much better, and could handle. He'd spent most of his life nearly dying of something after all. 

He came up for air, found he'd drifted a little offshore in the ebbing tide, and paddled back to where he'd gone under. He'd been a strong swimmer, from a family of strong swimmers, on an island of strong swimmers, and learned young how lovely the ocean can be. He hadn't realized how much he liked swimming until the waters of his home became toxic to the point of sudden death upon entry. He pushed himself under again. Quiet, dark, cool and heavy, the water wrapped around him, suffocating and cradling him. It pushed at the lids of his eyes and the inside of his ears, through his hair and against his skin until he felt quiet inside. 

_ Guess we know who's really on top, don't we _

He came up again, dragging in deep breaths as he swam slowly back to the beach. The aches in his back never troubled him in the water, and the pain in his shoulders would fade too. How the hell much longer could he go on like this, hauling his body around, the weapons, the hook? He was tired when Junkrat had first come to him. He'd been ready to get out of the game back them. Why the hell had he kept going for so long?

"Hog?"

Roadhog tipped his head back in the water, the outline of wild hair and narrow shoulders was just visible in silhouette above the edge of the cliff.

"Roadhog, you alive down there mate?" 

"'Course," Roadhog pulled himself back up towards the beach against the tide. 

"Oh good. Jesse said he'd seen you go under." 

First name basis with the gunslinger, Roadhog reflected, still probably doesn't know my name though. 

"I did," Roadhog answered after another moment. 

"Guess you float pretty well," Junkrat paused, then when Roadhog didn't bother to answer, went on. "Haven't tried but I'm pretty sure I'd sink like a hammer." 

The leg wasn't so heavy, but the arm was. Not just that, Junkrat hadn't put on an ounce of fat, even with all the abundant food they'd enjoyed since being taken to the Watchpoint. "Probably would," Roadhog conceded. 

Junkrat swung his mismatched legs over the edge of the cliff to sit away above Roadhog's head. "Why you in the water anyway?" 

Roadhog grunted. He want to talk about that. He didn’t want Junkrat to know what he was thinking, or feeling, or loosing sleep over. The warm, heavy water of the Med, with it's pollution and Blue Sharks and reckless holiday makers and heavy shipping traffic seemed by far more safe. He let the tide carry him a little further off shore as the silence stretched on. 

"How deep's the water 'Hog?" Junkrat asked away up on the cliff. 

Roadhog hadn't checked. He'd gone diving, or what could have been diving if he was a younger man with two working lungs and several kilos less weight to negotiate. The beach went down a fairly steep, short slope that dropped away to water too deep to reach the bottom of. 

"Deep," Roadhog grunted. 

"You know after a few weeks here you'd think I'd have gotten used to the glamor of company that offers more than single sentence conversation. Yet conversing with you is still such a treat." 

"Converse elsewhere," Roadhog shook his head briefly, letting his hair whirl through the water at his neck and shoulders, moving cooler water up against his skin. 

The chain rattled on the ladder, and Roadhog could just see the outline of Junkrat vanish over the edge of the cliff. He could hear Junkrat scrambling down the chain and the staples down to the beach. He was nimble, Roadhog could give him that. 

"Didn't say I minded, did I mate?" Junkrat's peg leg scrunched into the skree. He stumbled and sat down beside Roadhog's heap of cast off armor. 

Roadhog didn't answer. The stars were hazy above him with the light pollution, and he missed the bright, clear constellations from his homeland.

"Think we should be on the same team from now on 'Hog," Junkrat broke the silence after a while. 

"Not how the simulations work," Roadhog paddled slowly back up towards the shore. He dunked his head under to soak his face again, the salt was making him itchy as he dried out. 

"All fun and games in there I know," Junkrat went on in exactly the same voice. Roadhog could hear him flicking shale into the water, skipping stones. 

"Fun." In his mind's eye, he saw Junkrat's body arcing through the air, Hana's horrible mech going down on one knee as it exploded beside him.

"Fun, usually, I stand by that. Haven't gotten to blow up this many people in a long time mate, don’t think of taking that from me. You've been getting better with that hook too, don't think I haven’t noticed you loving this training." 

Roadhog didn't answer. Junkrat was right, but it came at a price that only Roadhog seemed unable to pay. 

"Felt sick all evening," Junkrat muttered, "Don't feel right offing you 'Hog." 

It took a moment for that to sink in. 

"What's that?" He couldn't have heard right.

"Don't feel right offin' you," Junkrat said, a little louder. Another stone skipped across the water, closer to Roadhog. 

"It’s what we're here for. Training." Roadhog said at length. 

"I'm not saying I can't do it," Junkrat snapped. The runt could go from calm to waspish to furious in a heartbeat. "I'm just saying didn't sit right. You keep me alive. Killing you is bad." 

Roadhog shook his head, and sighed as the cooler water swirled through his hair and against his neck. The sigh carried him a little higher out of the water and then back down as he subsided. 

"Hog? You even listening?" Junkrat sounded small, not quite petulant, his fury already gone.

"Yeah," Hog paused, studied the hazy stars overhead and went on. "You're here to do a job, part of that's learning to kill. You do the job, you clear your name, you get out." 

"We go on," Junkray said that like a question, "Right? Hog we go on together after this?"

"They'll keep you," That hurt to think about. "These kids like you well enough, they'll keep you." Tame him, hone him, groom Junkrat's brilliant criminal genius and wild insanity into a working member of a powerful, influential organization.They could give him work that could challenge him, feed him, make him human, give him a life. All things Roadhog had dedicated decades of his own time here to destroy in himself. And even if it was by accident, he reflected, destroying in Junkrat. 

Junkrat threw a stone into the water, a larger one that crashed when it hit and sank fast. "S'not what I asked is it Hog." 

Roadhog ducked under the water once more for a rinse, and turned to paddle back to the shore. The crushed concrete and shale was sharp under his feet, and as soon as he stood, felt the pain come back to his shoulders and knees. His back woke to all it's old aches. 

"'Rat, start thinking about after this," Roadhog said, and shook himself like a dog, planting his big hands on the slope of the beach. 

Junkrat yelped in alarm, shielding himself from the flying water and hissed at him, "I'm trying, need to know you're with me though don't I? It’s what I'm paying you for." 

"No Junkers here. No one after that treasure. Start again," Still wet, Roadhog begin pulling the armour together, the boots and knee braces, the rings, the shoulder holster and gauntlets, one piece at a time chafing over his salty skin. 

"Don't want to, keeping up with the start I had is hard enough mate," Junkrat muttered. He moved restlessly on the beach, the peg leg was awkward and he was wary of open spaces like this. 

"This will be easy. They'll help you, it’s what they're for," Roadhog said again, he reached for his mask. 

"You're not listening," Junkrat snarled. The anger came fast and hot, explosive like everything else about him. "Listen to me you fat hog." 

He was holding Roadhogs mask in his mismatched hands, holding tightly enough the rubber squeaked in his grip. 

"You’ve got a lot of nerve," Roadhog snarled. 

"You listen," Junkrat didn't back down, but pushed himself up and forward. Junkrat was tall when he chose to stand up straight. "I’m not asking about me, I'm asking about you. I don't like killin you, don't like not knowing where you are, don't like all the time you're spending away from me, and I don't like how you keep ignoring," Junkrat broke off to wrench the mask away as Roadhog made a grab for it. "Ignoring me. I know I'm just an employer to you," He spat the word, "But even if that's all I am, you still gotta listen." 

Roadhog got one huge hand on his mask and began tearing it out of Junkrat's grip. 

"'Hog, you," Junkrat grunted, unsteady on the sand and backing to try and pull the mask away, "Only care when I’m about to die because I’m paying, and now that doesn't matter and you can kill me just like you always wanted, so you tell me," His peg leg sank down lower than he'd expected and Junkrat stumbled and snarled out, "If it's what you want, you just tell me when you're going to leave." 

Roadhog stopped. Junkrat was backed against the cliff wall, struggling to stand back up while stubbornly keeping hold of the mask and trying to wrench it away. Roadhog couldn't see Junkrat's expression in the dark. 

They stood like that for a while. Roadhog's ruined lungs and their familiar rattle, and Junkrat panting and spitting as he struggled to pry Roadhog's grip from the mask. 

"It’s not easy to kill you," Roadhog said at last.

“I’m nimble.” 

“I mean I don’t like it.”

"You started it," Junkrat snarled right back,  "Hooked me from across the point, tore me open with that scrap gun I helped you build. Looked easy enough to me. I know you don't care, but I want to know how much time I got left with you, I gotta..." 

"I'm not leaving." 

The words startled Junkrat into inaction, and Roadhog into silence again. 

"What's that 'Hog?" Junkrat asked, apparently bewildered enough to be knocked out of his anger and back into confusion. 

"I'm not leaving without you," Roadhog clarified for the both of them.

"Oh,” Junkrat said, then, “Great, yeah, well then." 

Junkrat's grip went slack on the mask, and Roadhog pulled it away from him. 

"Really?” Junkrat followed up a few beats later, his voice had gone soft. “Really really? I mean, you're staying with me right? Not with these Overwatch people?" 

"You," Roadhog stepped back to tug at the disarrayed straps of his mask. He didn’t know what he was saying but it was probably wrong and he needed to get into his mask on right now.

Junkrat let out a breath with a woof. "Oh, good then. Only took stalking to down to the very edge of the island and stealing your damn face to get that out of you." 

Roadhog snorted, "It’s not my face. Just a mask." 

"I've seen you without that thing only a handful of times. It's your face to me." 

Roadhog paused, almost ready to pull his mask back on and stopped. He looked through the darkness at Junkrat recovering his balance. "I've got a face of my own 'Rat." 

"So you say," Junkrat was back to waspish, almost childish now that the question he'd sunk his teeth into was satisfied. "I ain't never seen it much Hoggy." 

"My name," Roadhog reached into the darkness and caught Junkrat's real hand. The only one that could feel. "Is Mako." He pulled Junkrat towards him, a little too rough, and Junkrat stumbled on the sand again and fell against Roadhog's chest and belly. "I have a face of my own," He pulled Junkrat's hand up and held it against his cheek. "And I'm staying," He went on, tightening his grip around Junkrat's wrist for a moment. "With you. Get used to it." 

Junkrat's hand had clenched instinctively into a fist, protective and tight. A moment after Roadhog made it clear he wasn't letting go, or letting him move away, Junkrat cautiously opened his hand, and tentatively cupped the curve of Roadhog's bare cheek. 

"I'm pretty used to having you around mate," Junkrat said. His voice had an odd hitch to it that Roadhog hadn't heard before. "Don't want to get used to any other way." 

Junkrat's hand settled more firmly against Roadhog's cheek. Roadhog slowly relaxed the grip on his wrist, and Junkrat didn't pull his hand away. 

"I know we've got to, I know I'll be good at it, but I didn't feel right after killing you today. Didn't sleep right after you killed me," Junkrat's hand slipped carefully down the curve of Roadhog's jaw and down to his chin, carefully, tentatively mapping out the features of Roadhog's face in the dark. "Did you care?" The question came out quiet.

"Gave me nightmares," Roadhog admitted quietly. 

"You said you don't get nightmares anymore, not about the explosion, not about your family?" Junkrat's fingertips traced over Roadhog's cheek again. 

Roadhog bowed his head slightly and let Junkrat’s fingertips, worn smooth by wire scars and sand, trace over his brow.  "I don't,” He said quietly.

"Oh," Junkrat let out another breath. "Oh." 

Junkrat pulled his hand back for a moment, then the backs of his fingers found Roadhogs mouth, and his thumb slowly ran over the curve of Roadhogs lower lip. 

"'Rat, you know I'm dead on my feet," Roadhog forced the words out, even though they hurt him, even though he had to speak them into the scarred skin of Junkrat's fingers. "You've got something better here." 

Junkrat flinched his hand back and Roadhog caught it, unerring in the dark, and held it tight. Junkrat tugged and Roadhog stubbornly didn't let go. 

"They're not like us," Junkrat said. 

"You could be like them, should be like them," Roadhog growled. His voice felt hoarse, "But I could never. I'm dying, you knew that when you hired me, and you're half my age." 

"That’s not my fault," Junkrat muttered. "And I don't want to be like them, I'm like me, I'm like you. I want that." 

Roadhog tugged Junkrat's hand up again in an impulse he didn't understand until he found himself pressing a kiss into Junkrat's palm. 

Junkrat wasn't breathing, then only found enough breath to whisper, "Mako?" 

He thought he'd heard Junkrat's voice in every pitch and situation, but he'd never heard him sound like this. 

"I'm not leaving you. But I'm not good for you either. You'll get like them, Junkrat it's what you're good at, surviving. You'll survive with them easier." Roadhog forced himself to let go of Junkrat's hand, pushing it away slightly. "You won't need me soon. They'll be good for you."

"Don't tell me what's good for me," Junkrat's voice was soft, oddly broken. "You don't get to say that I won't need you." 

Roadhog forced himself to step back, and pushed his mask back into place, tightening down the straps as quickly as he could. He shouldered on the rest of his armor and gear before Junkrat spoke again. 

"So that's it?" 

"Same as we ever were," Roadhog growled from behind his mask. "We stay here, help these guys, get good in the simulations. Kill each other if we have to." 

"It’s hard doing that. Can't see you as just another target." 

"Get used to it," Roadhog swung up the ladder, using the chain when he passed over the missing links. He reached the top and waited for Junkrat. 

"Pull me up." 

Roadhog sighed, pulled the chain up and then lowered down the hook. 

"I am quite a catch," Down below on the beach, Junkrat's weight settled onto the hook, and Roadhog's grip tightened on the chain.

The weight of his skinny employer came up easily, Junkrat's one good foot tucked carefully into the bowl of the hook, holding onto the chain with one hand and pushing himself off the cliff wall with the other. 

"Should throw you back. Too small to keep," Roadhog grunted as he pulled Junkrat over the edge of the cliff and began reeling his chain back into place. 

"I'd come back," Junkrat began walking, the loping, one sided walk around his peg leg, up towards the well lit watchpoint. "And you'd catch me." 

"Junkrat," Roadhog started, then stopped himself, unsure what  he could possibly say to that. 

"Wouldn't you?" Junkrat stopped but didn’t turn. 

Roadhog just stared at his back, and tried to fight down the ache in his chest. 

"You're too slow," he growled at length. 

"Oi!" the anger flaring up again in Junkrat's voice as he turned, furious and on edge again, "I'm faster than you y'fat..." 

"I'll carry you up," Roadhog went on, talking over Junkrat. 

Junkrat shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked. 

"Alright," he muttered, and Roadhog opened his arms as Junkrat stepped into them. 

They were closer to the same height like this, and the wiry tension that kept Junkrat upright and mobile faded over the space of a few breaths. Junkrat's arms around Roadhogs shoulders tightened, then relaxed again in turns. Roadhog kept his arms around Junkrat a little longer than he needed to, tense with the effort of not clutching him tighter. After a few more moments, Roadhog hefted Junkrat up easily, and started back to the Watchpoint. 

Back in familiar territory, Junkrat began climbing up Roadhog's harness, to his accustomed perch on his shoulder, but Roadhog held him back. 

"Oi, 'Hog."

"Hold still," Roadhog growled. His arms were tense again from the effort of not crushing Junkrat to him. His throat was tight. 

Junkrat squirmed briefly, cradled in Roadhogs arms, and before Roadhog could snap at him to hold still again, Junkrat moved. He was quick and explosive and unsure but determined, and wrapped his arms around Roadhog's neck, and pushed his face up under Roadhog's jaw. 

Roadhog stopped for a moment, losing stride as his arms tightened automatically around Junkrat, holding him in place. They were frozen for a moment, clinging to one another, Roadhog's head tipped over, sheltering Junkrat from anything the world might throw at them. They'd survived bombs and radiation. Junkers and police all over the world. Successful heists and failures and running from everyone and everything until they'd somehow run into each other. In the unlikely location in Gibraltar, under the fledgling Overwatch, under onus to a gorilla and a time traveler. 

He started walking after another few stolen seconds, but turned aside before he reached the door. Instead, he started slowly down the dark path towards the hangar, and the long way back to the quieter area around to the back entrance. 

"Hog?" Junkrat moved to look over Roadhog's shoulder, still clinging to his neck. 

Roadhog didn't reply, but walked slowly, clutching Junkrat to him, aware that as soon as they entered that building, his time for keeping Junkrat to himself would end again. He hadn't realized before what unfettered access to Junkrat had meant to him until now. Until Junkrat was surrounded by others and their more worthwhile demands on his time. 

Junkrat subsided in his arms, seeming to relax as it became clear Roadhog was taking the long way round. 

"You're still all wet. I'm getting soaked," he said. 

"Not my problem," Roadhog replied. Neither of them loosened their arms, and Roadhog found he was moving slower, committing the touch of Junkrat's hands on the back of his neck to memory. Reveling in the wiry body pressing itself against his shoulder and chest and belly. Roadhog found himself gripping Junkrat's shoulder a little too tight, and forced himself to relax his grip. 

"No," Junkrat shook his head briefly against Roahhog's neck, "Tighter, hold on to me, don't let go just yet." 

“You’ll bruise.” 

“Good.” 

Roadhog tightened his grip again, and walked on. 

Neither of them spoke, and neither of them shifted or relaxed their grip on one another for a full walk through the hanger, past other invitingly lit doors. They skirted the wide, bright windows where the other members of overwatch were training or chatting or playing video games. Roadhog's hair was starting to dry, and his skin was itchy from salt before they reached the entrance to the Watchpoint again, and shifted Junkrat's weight to let him down. 

Junkrat was clingy as an octopus, half asleep in Roadhog's arms and unwilling to be put down without a fight. 

"Let go, get in there," Roadhog chivied Junkrat on towards the door. He felt cold and strangely off balance without Junkrat in his arms. Incomplete in some troubling way. 

"It's not just me right?" Junkrat asked, bleary and belligerent, blinking up at Roadhog with his head cocked to one side and his hands still locked around Roadhog’s neck.

"We go together," Roadhog replied. It came out automatically, it was something he'd said often to Junkrat's mad schemes and ideas. Roadhog had learned early in their association that having Junkrat close meant he was safe. 

The familiar words seemed to knock the breath out of Junkrat, and he loosened his grip and nodded. Together they walked back into the watch point, and wordlessly parted, Junkrat heading back to the games room, and Roadhog to his accommodations and a shower. 

He wasn't sure what Junkrat had meant, wasn't sure what he had meant, but he knew that Junkrat had in some horrible way, become the only thing that mattered to him. He'd spent years enjoying a life free of material or emotional baggage of any kind, and now this horrible crazy kid was all his mind occupied him with. 

Especially now that Junkrat didn't need him. And he’d realize that sooner than later. Roadhog just had to wait him out, wait until Junkrat saw that, before he left. 

He rinsed salt off his skin and out of his hair, dried and dressed himself, tugged his mask off and fell into bed. He could still hear Hana and Lena laughing in the game's room, and the low beat of Lucio's music. He listened for Junkrat joining in and laughing along with the others, but he fell asleep still waiting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed, I love these two and I am going to make them happy despite their resistance. There will be another chapter to this coming up, which will be posted Nov. 28. It will have some resolution and more fluff, and porn. I sure hope you sweet readers like these soft boys as much as I do...  
> This is my third Overwatch fic, I have more planned and more in the works. I'm updating regularly on Mondays so stay tuned, last Monday was the first chapter of a McHanzo, and next Monday will be something a little different.  
> I have a schedule of my fics planned out in my Tumblr, so check it out if you want to know what's coming up. Also if you have any requests or would like to see something more, please let me know! You can ask me anything on my Tumblr at leoandlancer.tumblr.com/ask or in the comments here. <3 I am really grateful for your feedback.  
> This work was unbeta'd so any horribly embarrassing grammar or spelling mistakes are my own fault, and I apologize.


	2. Chapter 2

The training went on. Roadhog found himself improving, almost surprisingly quickly, in their simulations. Everyone was, all the veterans and the newcomers honing their skills, working well together. He enjoyed yanking his opponents into range of Symmetra's turrets. He learned to body block for Lucio and Mercy and even the horrible omnic to protect them from enemy fire. Began to watch for the enemy Phara to yank her out of the sky. Started talking more in battle, letting Ana or Zarya know when he was ready to unleash an ultimate and when they could combo up. 

He got good enough he could kill Junkrat as easily as the others. But the nightmares almost weren't worth it. The nightmares never got easier. 

But Junkrat had relaxed somehow since the night he’d skipped shale out into the water past Roadhog. Some tension that had always been there was suddenly gone and he seemed somehow lighter because of it. They worked well together in the simulations. They were working hard, training everyday.

It might have been the training that was too much, or the drastic change in environment, or the years of scrounging for life in the irradiated junk of Australia were catching up to him. Whatever it was that made him collapse, it hit Junkrat hard and fast. 

Roadhog woke one night with old instincts gnawing at him. Anxiety he hadn’t felt in weeks making him sweat. Before he really knew what he was doing, he was up out of bed, pulling his mask on and walking down to Junkrat’s quarters. 

If the door had been locked, Roadhog would have broken the door open to get inside. Fortunately it wasn’t, and Junkrat was lying on the floor inside shuddering when Roadhog came in. 

It was just a fever, the doctor assured him later, wearing a white medical coat over her pajamas. The first doctor Junkrat had been treated by since his childhood. She set him up in the medical wing with brisk efficiency. This veteran doctor, so much older than she looked, telling Roadhog exactly what to do as they moved him and set him in bed. 

Roadhog hadn’t panicked, but only because he’d gone straight past panic and into white hot terror. Overwatch was safe. Overwatch was Junkrat’s chance at a normal life and he couldn’t be hurt here when he wasn’t even on a mission. It had to be safe. 

Mercy’s door had been locked, and Roadhog did break that one down to wake her. 

“It’s a fever,” Mercy said again, apparently unperturbed by Roadhog smashing his way into her room in one violent burst at 3:50 on a Tuesday morning. “He’ll recover. A day off is what’s called for. For both of you.” 

Roadhog had been on the point of protesting, he never got sick. But Junkrat’s hand was still held in his, and for some reason, he couldn’t imagine letting go. He just huffed out a brief agreement. Mercy, nodded to him, calmly propped her busted door against the frame and went back to sleep.

Roadhog spent the next six hours sitting with Junkrat, unsure who had taken who’s hand first. Either way. Roadhog didn’t move, didn’t speak, and thought furiously about how the hell he was supposed to get out of this. Because he’d promised Junkrat they’d go together. He was paid to. 

And he hadn’t been scared since he was a punk in his twenties. Hadn’t had a moment’s doubt since he’d seen the Omnium core go up in fire and smoke and odd, alien bolts of green lightning. But he’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d seen Junkrat lying on the floor, trailing his sweat damp blankets and gasping for air. 

“Hog,” Junkrat murmured. His eyes were still closed and his hand was cool in Roadhog’s. 

Roadhog just grunted. 

“Good, that’s…” Junkrat tensed, shuddered, and then his hand tightened on Roadhog’s. “Don’t go.” 

“M’not,” Roadhog grunted. 

“Nah, not now I mean… Don’t want you to go,” Junkrat’s grip on Roadhog’s hand was almost painful now. “You promised.” 

Roadhog looked out the wall of windows at the side of the mountain, and beyond that, the Mediterranean sea. It was still early morning and Roadhog felt shaky from lack of sleep and leftover adrenaline. 

“Mako,” Junkrat murmured. 

“I’m staying,” Roadhog said, his breath catching at the sound of his old name. Roadhog didn’t want to think about how Junkrat really did know his name. Didn’t want to think about anything else Junkrat might say like this. It was hard enough seeing Junkrat slack with exhaustion and damp with a cold sweat and pale under his sunburn.

“Wasn’t luck,” Junkrat shook his head, almost fretfully. “I looked for you.” 

“What are you talking about,” Roadhog wondered if he had to call Mercy. Junkrat was easier to deal with when he was unconscious. 

“Didn’t want just anyone, wasn’t… It wasn’t luck. Sorry about that mate,” Junkrat tugged at Roadhog’s hand, still holding on too tight.

Roadhog didn’t say anything. He felt cold somehow, and oddly light, the way he felt before a fight.

“Waited for you,” Junkrat said, softer now, his hand was trembling, “Sorry. You’re too good Hoggy, kept me alive more than anyone else ever could have. Never would have gotten far without you. Never would have made it out of Australia.” 

Even when he was out of his damn mind with a 105 degree fever he couldn’t shut up, Roadhog thought to himself. But he sat quietly as Junkrat fell quiet again, sank into unconsciousness, and held his hand as he shook and cried out and went from one nightmare to another. 

It was almost lunchtime when Junkrat gasped as though in pain and bit his lip to stop a scream. His right arm flinched up to his chest, an odd, unbalanced, instinctive gesture Roadhog had seen Junkrat make before.

“Shut up,” Roadhog muttered, and set his free hand over Junkrats eyes. His big hand spanned Junkrat’s face easilly, gripped him at the temples with thumb and fingers and gently pushed him down into his pillow. “You’re fine.” 

Junkrat whined, then stopped twisting in pain with a shudder. To his surprise, Roadhog watched Junkrat subside, still trembling. 

“I’m here,” Roadhog said before he could stop himself. He said it quietly, and wished it was too quiet to hear, but the tension went out of Junkrat with a sigh, and just as easily, Junkrat seemed to slip down into a real sleep. 

Roadhog’s heart was beating too fast, his breath ached in his lungs and his throat felt raw. His hand was trembling now, still wrapped around Junkrat’s relaxed, sleep-heavy hand. He couldn’t let go. 

“I’m not leaving,” He realized. 

The nightmares got worse after that. 

Junkrat recovered, woke later that afternoon dazed and sore and confused but hungry and alert. Roadhog sat perfectly still and silent while Mercy took what she needed for some tests and talked at him about vaccinations and boosters. He looked blankly back at her and she blinked, then informed him that he was probably going to be in for a few shots. 

A disagreement followed, Roadhog sided with Mercy, and Junkrat sulked his way through Mercy relinquishing him back to the wide world. 

“I’m fine,” Junkrat said as he made his way back to his quarters for a shower and a change of clothes. 

Roadhog thought of Junkrat lying on his bedroom floor. Thought of all the medical attention he ought to have had in an Australia Roadhog hadn’t destroyed. “Do what she tells you,” He growled at length. 

He left Junkrat at the door to his room, skipped dinner and went straight back to his quarters. He laid his mask aside, dropped into bed and slept for ten hours. 

The nightmares got so much worse after that. 

Junkrat had never been scared of him. Had never listened to his orders or suggestions or cautions. He’d never been anything Roadhog had the least control over. Being his bodyguard had been like catching bullets for a dust devil or trying to keep a rogue wave from crashing up the shore. But he’d felt Junkrat’s body do as he’d told it because Junkrat wanted him there. He’d heard Junkrat tell him he wanted him and when Roadhog had pushed Junkrat down into his bed, Junkrat had gone without a fuss, and he’d whimpered and sighed with relief.

They weren’t, technically, nightmares. But after the first one, Roadhog woke with a roar that tore his ruined throat. He tasted blood all morning and had never been so grateful for the hiding place his mask offered. 

He thought it might just be one. But the next night, and the one after that, and the one after that. They weren’t technically nightmares. They were worse, and they weren’t stopping. He tried to keep his distance. Tried to avoid Junkrat out of the simulations, and tried to kill him more than the others in them. He tried to block the dreams out and tried to pull all nighters to avoid them. He couldn’t though, and one day he realized they weren't stopping, they weren’t going to stop, and they were getting worse.

He was terrified after that. The realization struck him as he watched Junkrat from the safety of his mask later that morning. Past terrified and solidly into confused and uncertain and gut-turning anxious. This was worse than nightmares about killing him. This was so much worse and he could hardly force words around  _ why _ .

That afternoon in their simulations, he went on a killing spree, sagging with relief that Junkrat wasn't in his team or the enemy's. 

He was ferocious enough that after two matches, Athena withdrew him from play, and put him in skirmish to wait for another, more balanced match-up. 

Roadhog stood in the drop ship on the edge of the greecian coast, and listened to his breath rattling in his lungs. His back ached and his shoulders were sore and he was forty-eight years old. He was long past his expiration date. Everyone he'd known, everyone he'd grown up with, was already dead. He didn't have long left. 

Other heroes came into skirmish, run past him into the hot grecian sunshine to explore or see who else was out there. Roadhog stayed perfectly still, carefully cataloguing all the reasons why Junkrat was better off without him. 

"G'day!" 

Roadhog opened his eyes, still standing in the drop ship. The room was untidy, people had come and gone and left the drop ship a blasted mess. And just outside the door on the ramp, Junkrat grinned up at him. Junkrat edged in red, painted as an enemy.

"Hello!" He said. 

Roadhog didn't reply, couldn't reply. Forty eight years old and going to die soon. Junkrat was better off growing into Overwatch then staying with Roadhog.

"Oi, Hog, come on." 

Roadhog shut his eyes again, and tuned out Junkrat's voice. Tuning out Junkrat was a self taught skill made sharp by constant practice, and for the next two minutes, Roadhog stood impassive as Junkrat called to him. 

Then shouted. 

Then lost his patience and began attacking the impasse on the doorway. Roadhog stood, listening to the rattle in his lungs, feeling his huge, old body ache, and heard Junkrat's jump mine going off a few feet away. Junkrat was hard into a temper tantrum, calling to him from outside, launching grenades, taking damage from the ricochet, clawing at the impasse. Roadhog reminded himself that this was better. This wasn’t going to hurt either of them as badly as what Roadhog wanted. 

Outside the impasse, Junkrat screamed in pain, one of his own grenades going off too close to him. 

“Roadhog!” 

Despite himself, Roadhog tensed to go into battle. Readied himself to defend his stupid, impulsive, half crazed employer from anything this savage world could throw at him. Readying himself to protect Junkrat was more ingrained than his ability to block him out. He stopped himself in time, and kept his eyes shut. 

Junkrat was silent outside the impasse, gasping quietly in pain, then snarled out a curse, and died. 

Roadhog let out a rattling breath that clawed up his throat and made him shake. This was better. Junkrat had dropped off the edge of the cliff and was back in his own spawn room by now. Safe and whole and far away from Roadhog.

They weren't in the same match once Roadhog was taken from skirmish, or the one after that, or the one after that. But the afternoon dragged on, Roadhog unable to deal more than token damage. 

Finally, it was over, and Roadhog woke up in the warm pod inside Watchpoint Gibraltar. He automatically put his mask back into place and immediately looked around for Junkrat. 

Gone. His pod was empty and dark.

That was fine. Roadhog tightened the straps of his mask, climbed out of his pod and turned left in the corridor instead of right, and headed for his quarters instead of the mess. He didn’t really feel up for a meal, or company, or anything. He was dimly aware of the others chattering around him, of someone telling him he'd been great in their first match. 

He was used to being alone in crowded, close quarters. It was easy to get people to leave him alone and the mask helped. No one liked talking to it. Or to anyone his size. But he found any company excruciating that evening, even when it wasn’t paying him any attention. He couldn't settle without one of the others arriving abruptly wherever he went. It was windy on the island, and the tide was high and it was too choppy to swim. Too crowded indoors. Too noisy in the workshops to work on his weapons. He didn't want to go straight to bed. 

So he roamed. Pacing slow circles around Gibraltar until it was late, and he still didn’t want to go back to his quarters and find out what nightmares he’d have now. Instead he turned and dragged himself back to the huge, cathedral high space of the simulation chamber. It was cool in there now, and dim, and one of the pods already had an occupant; some late night practice session. He ignored them and climbed back into his own pod.

"Athena," Roadhog pulled his mask off, and dropped it onto its accustomed place, "Run custom map. Ilios." 

"Participants?" Athena asked promptly. 

"No AI," Roadhog lay back and a moment later, dropped through the disquieting feeling of his mind being pulled into the environments Athena rendered. 

He liked Ilios. It was always sunny, breezy, and warm. It felt like the kind of place you could stay for a few weeks. In real life, the real Ilios was only an hour or so away, and this little courtyard where their drop ship landed was probably bustling with people. Holidaymakers and locals and folks making the most of the gorgeous weather. It was strange, Roadhog reflected as the sun shone down on him, to think that in the real Ilios, it was night time now. 

He made his way to the Lighthouse, and then down to the little square look-out on the cliff overlooking the marina. Here, at least, he was totally on his own.

"I knew you'd pick Ilios. What is it about this place Hog?" 

Roadhog stiffened, turned, and found Junkrat standing in the window of the lighthouse above him. He had a red edge to his outline, a mark of an opposing team member. 

“Knew you’d get tired of being cooped up on land on a windy night like this. You thought you’d get away from everyone in a sim eh? I asked Athena to queue me into the next custom game made. Figured it’d be yours.” 

"You here to fight?" Roadhog growled. 

"Nah," Junkrat jumped down from the lighthouse window to the little square to join him. "Can't get you on your own any other way. And I figured, if you were pissed at me, might help to kill me." 

Roadhog just grunted, wary and a little surprised Junkrat had tracked him down. That he’d waited him out, even trapped him. 

“This’ll be the last time I do though,” Junkrat said quietly. “S'been weeks Roadhog, you ignoring me?" 

Roadhog didn't say anything, just looked out at the water again. 

"You said we'd go together," Junkrat said, he sounded a little flat as he said it, like he'd said the words to himself many times before now. "I believed that." 

The guilt that lanced through Roadhog at Junkrat’s words made him turn abruptly away. It had been for his own goddamn good that he’d been avoiding...

"Going back to the dropship?" Junkrat's voice pitched up slightly, mocking. "Going to hide inside, again?" 

Suddenly, he realized that Junkrat was angry. Really,  _ hugely  _ angry. In a way that he couldn't deal with, in a way that violence wouldn't solve. The fact that Roadhog was at full health proved that if nothing else. Junkrat was standing at his full height, looking tall and alert and only focused on Roadhog. Roadhog stopped walking away.

Slowly, and keeping his grip on his scrap gun loose, Roadhog turned back to face Junkrat. 

"I can't get to you in your spawn room Roadhog, not like this," Junkrat held out his arms. 

The red edge to his skin that Athena painted him with to differentiate the teams was already a signal for Roadhog to feel slightly sick. Painting Junkrat as a mark, a target. Roadhog kept silent, trying to rein in his uncertainty and nerves and misplaced guilt. 

"So that's where you want to be right?" Junkrat's teeth showed briefly in a snarl, "Whereever I'm not? I thought you said you weren't leaving. But I know you don't want to stay with me, so what is it?" 

He'd run out of words eventually. He had to. Not even Junkrat could keep this going forever. He'd run out of words, run out of patience, and Roadhog would run out of time. If any one of those things happened, Junkrat would be better off. 

Junkrat took a breath, and started talking fast and low. "You must really want to be well shot of me, we've hardly spoken since I followed you down to your beach, or was it when I got sick? What the holy hell's changed about me? You were fine sharing a meal with me before we came here. Fine sharing a room. You didn't seem to notice me half the time and didn't seem to care one way or another when I was around and now s'like you can't stand the sight of me so you tell me," Junkrat was on a tear now, snarling out the words like a tense, furious dog, "You tell me what changed, why do you hate me so much now. Why you lying to me now?" 

Roadhog couldn't answer that. Didn't know how and couldn't even if he wanted to. 

"I know you're the strong silent type Hoggy, but I'm going to need you to step outside your comfort zone for a few seconds to explain why the hell you lied when you said we'd go together."

Roadhog didn't say anything. It was easy not to give anything away if you stayed silent, hid your face and didn't move.

Junkrat seemed to deflate slightly as the seconds passed. Then he seemed to break, and slouched down into his usual half crouch and gave up, shifting restlessly and shaking himself. "Fine. Don't. But as long as we're here and you got that hook and I want to practice..." 

"No," Roadhog snapped. 

Junkrat snapped back to full alert again, back straight, head cocked, his grin going sharp. He was like a hungry dog hearing food hit the floor.  

Easy not to give anything away if you stayed fucking quiet, Roadhog berated himself. 

"Still don’t like fighting me? Or is it that I’m getting just as many kills as you are these days. That I can get away from that hook sometimes? Don't like not having that certain kill?" Junkrat went on, lancing to get back under Roadhog's skin. 

Roadhog tensed again, unsure if he was going to round on Junkrat and slam a point blank shot from his scrap gun into that grinning face or put himself over the cliff to die. If he did either, he’d go back to the spawn room, where Junkrat couldn't reach him.

He couldn’t move. Anything Roadhog did now, either attack or run away, it would put a divide between them. It would mean they didn't go together. 

He shouldn’t have tried to hide this, Roadhog reflected as he dropped his scrap gun. Junkrat's mouth snapped shut in mid word and his head tilted around onto the opposite side in confusion. Junkrat could get a rise out of anything or anyone. Roadhog reached up and tugged at the straps of his mask, pulling it off. 

Junkrat looked more than confused now, he looked uneasy. 

He felt naked without his mask, in a way that went deeper than just decency. It had been the only thing that had kept him alive for most of his life. It was the only thing that could heal him. 

It was the only thing important enough to shut Junkrat up for a few seconds.

Junkrat was staring up at him, his mouth open and his eyes wide and he didn't look so angry anymore. Roadhog tried to remember the last time Junkrat had seen him without his mask in bright sunshine and out of danger, but he wasn't sure if he had.

"Don't care that you can get kills, or get away," Roadhog said, turning to face Junkrat head on and was struck again by the colour and clarity he could see outside his mask. Junkrat was so much more vivid somehow, standing in the bright fabricated sunshine of the Grecian midday. Roadhog couldn't look away. “I just don’t want…” He stopped. He couldn't frame words around what he wanted to say. It was bigger than words, with more edges, it could hurt them both more than the scrap gun or the grenades or a fall off the cliff.

"You look sad Mako," Junkrat said, sounding soft and stunned. “Why you looking so sad?” 

His voice was so quiet, and it’s unfamiliar confusion was so much more startling than Junkrat's anger. Roadhog was used to the anger. He wasn’t used to hearing his name. He shook his head, unable to find any more words.

"Don't want what?" Junkrat prompted softly, he looked a little antsy, wary in a way Roadhog remembered from before they’d teamed up. Back when Junkrat was on his own and scared about it. "Don't care bout me? Don't want me hanging around anymore? You change your mind? Don't want to go together?" His teeth were showing as he said that last part. 

"Don't want to hurt you," Roadhog said. The words were stupid and he knew it as he said them, and Junkrat scoffed. 

"You've killed me exactly twenty-seven times and counting..." Junkrat started. 

"No," Roadhog took a step, closing the distance between them and Junkrat didn't flinch, just seemed to brace himself. "No I don't mean that. The real way." He wanted to reach, wanted to touch, but following what he wanted was just going to ruin them both and he knew it. He stopped himself in time and closed his hands into fists. 

Junkrat tensed a little more, glancing down at Roadhog's huge fists and then back up, and Roadhog remembered, too late, that looming over someone was the only way he had to communicate with them. Any gesture he made, any flex or tell, was threatening. He backed off without thinking and Junkrat seemed to be pulled along after him, keeping the same closeness.

"Real way..." Junkrat scowled, and seemed to focus, looking up at Roadhog instead of just studying his face with his mouth half open. "Listen, Roadhog this might surprise you but I don't care if you do, I still want you here. I told you I want you right here with me." 

Roadhog just shook his head. “You just needed protection, and someone to drive you out of trouble.” Needed the weight of Roadhog’s patience to balance out his wildness, he didn’t say, then went on. “You could have gotten that from half a dozen enforcers. I’m not special. Don’t try and tell me…” 

"You thinking I'm just paying you?” Junkrat snapped, loud and sharp and suddenly Junkrat was on the attack, leaning forward into his words to cut Roadhog off. “Think I’m just in this for the charming conversation and a meat-shield? Half my treasure for protection. That was our deal, that I could have offered to anyone. But let me tell you, Hoggy me old mate, I came looking for you to make that offer. I held off making it to anyone else. I looked for you." 

Roadhog blinked. Junkrat had been in a fever state before when he’d said he’d looked… He opened his mouth, realized he had fuck all to say, and shut it again. 

"Yeah," Junkrat breathed, and again, that grin was creeping wider over his face, edged and sharp as a shark's. "And after we got caught, you think it was an accident that you came with me? Nah mate, I brought you here. I made sure the deal Winston gave me stretched to you. Made sure you were protected because I wanted you with me." 

Junkrat had protected  _ him. _ Hadn’t been talking crazy when he’d said he’d looked for Roadhog. Had actually sought him out and kept him close, because… 

Roadhog's mask was in his hand, and he ducked his head to slide it back in place. The action was instinctive, ingrained from years of drop-and-go assaults and attacks against him. He'd never felt like he needed a wall between him and the world more than right now. 

"No," Junkrat exploded up. Quick and violent and Roadhog grunted as Junkrat jumped at him and clawed the mask out of his hand. Junkrat lunged away suddenly and just as Roadhog caught him, Junkrat whipped his arm out.

The mask fell away down the cliff, beyond the reach of anyone. 

"A lot of fuckin' nerve," Roadhog snarled. He grabbed at Junkrat, ready to throw him after his mask in one heave, but Junkrat clung with his arms and legs with a savage focus at anything on Roadhog he could hold on to. 

"No you fuckin don't hide from me," Junkrat snarled, the grin was gone but his teeth were still sharp and bare in the sunshine. "Anyone else, but not me, we're together. You fuckin tell me why you think I should hate you. Because I don't, you fat, miserable old bastard, I don't hate you. It’s you that fuckin hates me now." 

"Get off me," Roadhog's scrap gun was on the ground where he'd dropped it more than a metre away and he didn't think he could get to it while Junkrat was clinging to him as effectively as an octopus. 

"Nah," Junkrat readjusted his grip and tightened his hold. "No you have to fuckin tell me why. Tell me, and I fuckin promise I'll never fuckin talk to you again if you don't want me to. You'll be a free agent and I'll be just like all the others. Why the fuck do you hate me now?" 

Roadhog made one last effort to throw Junkrat off him, and gave up. The brat was wrapped around him so tightly it hurt, his hands splayed wide and fingers digging in. They'd both taken damage in the scuffle. He huffed out a long breath and stared over the edge of the cliff down at the finger docks and the boats floating there. He idly considered throwing them both over the edge. 

"'Hog if you do," Junkrat said with a snarl, watching where he was looking and apparently reading his mind, "I'll come back, you get that? I'll come out of spawn and out of the sim and I'll sit by your fuckin pod until you wake up and I'll keep asking." 

"You're better off with Overwatch," Roadhog growled. 

"You've said that before," Junkrat snapped back. "And that’s not what I asked." 

Roadhog stood still, looking down at the boats, the cruise ship, and the wide empty expanse of water. Junkrat's familiar weight clinging tightly to him felt exactly right, some imbalance in him corrected whenever he was around. 

"I'm not leaving this time," Junkrat warned him, "I'm waiting you out. Thought waiting on a beach for you to come to me or drown would do the trick yet here we are again because this time, 'Hog, I'm getting an answer out of you."

Reluctantly, Roadhog pulled one arm free of Junkrat's hold, until Junkrat was forced to swiftly grab hold of Roadhog's harness instead. Roadhog backed a step, turned and walked back to the edge of the lighthouse wall, under the window.

"If think you can walk back to your spawn's impasse and that's how you'll scrape me off you," Junkrat started, his voice pitched somewhere between irritation and apprehension. 

"Shut up," Roadhog growled. His voice sounded strange to him without his mask. 

"Well you're not a man of many words but this is an all time low so," Junkrat started up again. 

Roadhog looped his one free arm around Junkrat, pulling him even more tightly to him. He turned at the wall and dropped back to sit with his legs outstretched.

Junkrat shut up. 

They sat perfectly still after that. Roadhog didn't ease his grip on Junkrat and Junkrat clung to Roadhog until he began to tremble with the effort. Roadhog wished, for the first time, that he could take bruises out of the simulations. He wanted to keep these ones. 

"You're not gonna try to throw me off the cliff if I let go are you Hog?" Junkrat said at length. 

Roadhog grunted, preferring to stay ambiguous, but it must have sounded sufficiently like resignation because Junkrat slowly began to ease his hold. 

"Why you avoiding me, Hoggy," Junkrat asked again. "What’d I do?” 

Roadhog’s hands tightened on Junkrat, and they sat silently studying one another, so close they were almost nose to nose. Junkrat had only rarely seen Roadhog without his mask, and Roadhog had rarely seen Junkrat looking so focused, so still, so  _ here _ . It was a little unnerving. 

He couldn’t think of anything to say.

"You just don't want this, do you,” Junkrat’s voice was soft again. “It’s not about Overwatch or you being an old fucker or half dead or me seeking a bright new fuckin future. You just don’t want me." 

Roadhog took a breath. This was the first and only time Junkrat would ask. 

"No," Roadhog managed. It was the right thing to say, it was what was best for Junkrat, but Roadhog's chest constricted painfully all the same. 

Junkrat's hands tightened suddenly on Roadhog's shoulders, then abruptly let go. All at once, Roadhog found himself sitting alone, stopping himself from reaching after Junkrat. 

“‘Rat," He started, then realized he had absolutely nothing to say. 

"It's alright, Hoggy," Junkrat backed a step towards the little stairway back up to the main square in front of the lighthouse. He still had that knife edged focus on Roadhog, but there was something else, some desperation there that was new and horrifying. "I'll stop bothering you. Well, can't tell a lie, I'll still bother the hell out of you. Just, you know, generally. Not about this. I'll... I can leave this, if you want. I’m just an employer. That’s all." 

Roadhog realized he was frozen, both hands out to Junkrat, as though he could pull him back. He abruptly settled his hands in his lap. His hands closed into fists. 

"We're a team, I mean, for now,  just not... Yeah. I won't bring it up again," Junkrat said. "It's not what you want so... It's alright. We're alright. That was all you had to say ‘Hog." 

Junkrat turned and headed up the stairs. He was at the landing and turning the corner when Roadhog realized he was speaking before he could stop himself. 

"Is it what you wanted? Am I..." Roadhog cut himself off and tried to think of a way to take the question back, but Junkrat was already answering him. 

"Yeah mate." 

The unhesitating certainty made Roadhog's breath catch. 

And Junkrat turned the corner, and suddenly, Roadhog knew Athena had removed him from the game. He'd be waking up in his pod right about now, and Roadhog was alone again. Like he'd wanted.

Easier, he told himself. Easier and safer and better for him. Junkrat deserved a future that didn’t include a disastrous half dead, middle aged enforcer with a bad back and wrecked lungs. He didn’t need Roadhog. Junkrat was a survivor, he didn’t need anything except himself. He’d be fine. He grow up and shed Roadhog like everything else about his old life. He’d be fine. 

That made sense. It was what he'd wanted. Except none of that explained why Roadhog felt like he'd fucked up more irreparably than any time before. He'd had a lot of fuck ups in his day. Many of them downright apocalyptic. 

"Athena," Roadhog growled. "Terminate Custom Game." 

"Now leaving Ilios," Athena's cool voice said into his ear. 

Junkrat was already gone from the huge, vaulted room where the simulation pods were housed, and Roadhog gave only a cursory glance around before he left. Junkrat had to be close, he didn't have much of a head start. 

"Rat?" Roadhog choose the corridor that led up towards Winston's workshop and the open head of the trail towards the hanger. 

The hallways were empty, and Winston's workshop was dark and quiet. Roadhog hadn't bothered to check what the time was, just kept moving, skipping stairs and letting doors crash closed behind him as he went. He slammed the controls for the door out to the little courtyard when he couldn’t find Junkrat in the workshop. He went down the ramp at a jog, keeping to the left, heading between the mountain and the little supply room under the comm tower.

"Junkrat!" 

And there he was. Junkrat's low, uneven silhouette restlessly walking along the edge of the cliff, looking out at the moon. 

"Hoggy? I said it's alright mate you don't have to..." 

He was still walking away, still talking, still perfectly ready to accept what Roadhog had said. Of all the times to decide to be cooperative. 

"Junkrat," Roadhog started after him, but Junkrat was faster than he was, and unless he waited, Roadhog could chase him until sun up. 

"You don't have to say anything, It's fine, we're just like we ever were, just like you said. No point in... Anything is there, we just keep on, no changes. It's... It's fine Hoggy I promise cross me heart..." 

Still walking away. 

Fury slashed through Roadhog, blind and hot and mostly directed at himself, at making this both of their problems, or making Junkrat carry it. Before he could stop himself, his hook was in his hand. 

He didn't really know what he was doing when he threw it. He was surprised that if felt exactly like throwing in the simulations. He carried it with him, even though he didn't carry his scrap gun on Gibraltar. But he'd hadn't thrown it outside of their training simulations since they'd arrived here. He'd never expected it to be so easy.

Junkrat gave a brief, started cry as Roadhog grabbed the chain and yanked. Stunned and unarmed and light without his tire or grenades, Junkrat fetched up mute and wide eyed in front of Roadhog. For a second, Roadhog was terrified of the blast from the jump-mine he was expecting. But it never came.

"Shut up," Roadhog growled. 

He still didn't know what he was doing. He had no idea why he'd done that, or why he dropped his hook and let it and the chain clatter to the ground. He just wanted Junkrat here, where he could reach him, grab his shoulders and pull him close and hold the long, lean, wiry body against his own. 

It was easy to kiss Junkrat. 

He didn't realize he wasn't wearing his mask until he felt the warmth of Junkrat's skin on his face. Didn't realize what he'd been after until his mouth covered Junkrat's and he fet the shock of relief go through him. Didn't have any idea how to get out of this situation when it inevitably went bad. 

Because it was going to go bad. Something this good was bound to go bad. 

It was a brief kiss, and it was startling to Roadhog how warm it felt, how easy it was. How well Junkrat fit in his arms against his body, how natural it would be to just keep going like this. 

He pulled away, tensing as he did. 

Junkrat was looking more stunned now then he had at the end of the hook. He went still when he was startled, the flat, static, immobility of someone who knew most shooters aimed at movement. 

"Just shut up Rat," Roadhog managed that first. Then he took a breath and started forcing words together. One after another, trying to make sense of the two of them. 

"I'm not staying with you because of the treasure," Roadhog said. Junkrat was wire taut against him. "I wanted what we had. I'm a selfish old man, and the world is all pain, and you make it better. I wanted you." 

Junkrat's breath hitched, and for once in his life, stayed quiet, and Roadhog found that he was the one rambling on. 

"Spent more than forty years without you, and now only a few years with you here. You and all your crazy. It's better than anything else." Roadhog tightened his grip around Junkrat. The words would stop soon, he'd never been a talker, but he needed Junkrat to hear everything he said. "But Jaime, I'm old, and broken, and you deserve someone who won't die on you, won't kill you for damn training, you deserve someone better." 

"No one's better than you mate," Junkrat found his voice, and Roadhog lost his again. Junkrat licked his lips, a little absently and went on, "You wanted what we had Hog? Thought I was just a nuisance to you." 

"You are," Roadhog assured him automatically.

"Sure," Junkrat murmured.

He didn't sound convinced anymore though, and Roadhog kept very still as Junkrat leaned back a little, and studied him.

"I stole everything from you Junkrat," Roadhog's last, deepest reason for Junkrat to find someone better. Someone who hadn’t already ruined him. "Me and my crew. Blowing up the Omnium. You would have lived a normal life without me." 

"Can't say that," Junkrat shrugged off the last twenty odd years of turmoil and danger and radiation and destruction. "No one's lived one of those for a long time mate." 

And there wasn't much Roadhog could answer that with. 

"You forgot your mask mate," Junkrat murmured, and he cupped the curve of Roadhog's bare cheek. "Ain't never seen that before." 

It hadn’t even occurred to him. The mask hadn’t been on his mind when he’d come out of his pod. Roadhog sighed, shut his eyes, and nodded a little against Junkrat's hand. Junkrat pushed himself closer, stepping up onto the steel toes of Roadhogs boots.

"You don't have to want what we have Mako, we've got it," Junkrat said, and this time he was talking right against Roadhog's mouth. 

Roadhog scuffed one hand through Junkrat's hair and pulled him the last little bit up into a kiss. The hand cupping his cheek went to the back of his neck, gentle and light, until Roadhog went to back off. Then Junkrat tugged him back down, even though they both knew Roadhog didn't have to go anywhere he didn't want to. He let Junkrat pull him down though, let Junkrat wrap around him and press into him, hold onto him so tightly he would carry bruises this time. 

"You sure?" Roadhog knew it was already too late. Knew that if he really could have let Junkrat alone, the time for that was well over. He would choose this every time.

"Yeah mate, always been sure of this," Junkrat put his face against Roadhog's neck and pressed up under his chin.

"Weird," Roadhog remarked. But he settled his chin a little more firmly over Junkrat's head, and wrapped his arms around him and held him too tight. 

Junkrat just snorted, then went still. “‘Hog, why you been keeping your distance then?”

Roadhog was already too used to the weight and shape of Junkrat against him, the idea of losing it was untenable. It was easier to expect to die in a fire than lose this. 

“You told me you waited for me,” Roadhog said, trying to fit words around a terror and dread and terrible, heartbreaking want that had trailed him like a shark in dark water. “Said you waited for me. You were sick, thought you didn’t mean it.” 

“Oh, did I… oh,” Junkrat pushed his face a little more firmly into Roadhog’s neck. “Sorry mate, didn’t mean to scare you off like…” 

“You didn’t,” Roadhog was thinking of every single one of the nightmares that weren’t, technically nightmares. He could wrap both his hands around Junkrat’s skinny waist. Junkrat’s back felt narrow under his hands. The lines of his body were familiar as Roadhog stroked down the curve of Junkrat’s long spine and pressed him closer. “Scared myself,” He admitted. 

“How…” Junkrat made a tiny, impulsive little movement, pushing back into Roadhog’s hands and making a tiny, startled moan as Roadhog pushed him firmly back against his belly. “Hog?” 

Roadhog turned his head a little, nuzzling his jaw against Junkrat’s head and talking quietly down into his ear. “Didn’t want to hurt you.” 

“You’ve got blanket permission there mate, no worries,” Junkrat’s eyes were shut and he let out a long, hot breath over Roadhog’s throat. “Will you?” 

In reply, Roadhog gripped Junkrat’s hips and pulled him in to grind against him. They were both half hard, and Roadhog felt Junkrat start with recognition when he realized. Junkrat’s hands caught at Roadhogs harness and he dragged himself closer, pulling Roadhog down slightly with his surprising strength. 

“Probably,” Roadhog said, ever the pragmatist, and squeezing Junkrat’s hips enough to bruise. 

“I knew, objectively,” Junkrat managed, “Just didn’t think I’d ever get to… Hog sit down, please for the love of god…” 

Before Junkrat could finish, Roadhog backed a step until he felt the back wall of the comm building at his back, and dropped unceremoniously down to sit at it’s base. He arranged Junkrat on his lap, hands wrapped over and behind his thighs, until Junkrat was straddling his hips, looking a little startled. 

“I’m used to more back talk from you,” Junkrat said, blinking at Roadhog with wide eyes in the moonlight. 

“You won’t get much from me right now,” Roadhog assured him. “You going to talk the whole way through this?” 

“Undoubtedly mate,” Junkrat grinned suddenly, his hands were between them and Roadhog’s grip tightened on Junkrat’s thighs. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Roadhog refused to admit that even if it was true. His hands were wandering up Junkrat’s back again, stroking down and tracing the long lines of muscle with the blunt tips of his fingers.

“Anyway,” Junkrat nuzzled up against Roadhogs wide neck again, quick fingers between them, hands that could make a bomb in the dark, under fire. “If you do want to shut me up I’m amenable.” 

Before Roadhog could reply, he jerked slightly, the backs of Junkrat’s prosthetic fingers stroking all the way up his length. He grunted as Junkrat wrapped his left hand around him. “Come here,” Roadhog growled, pulling Junkrat in for a kiss. 

Junkrat was nose to nose with him like this, lying up up belly with his hands between them. They kissed open mouthed and filthy, all teeth and pressing tongues and Roadhog’s hand heavy and curved over Junkrat’s head, keeping him in place. 

He’d been terrified of this, Roadhog thought with Junkrat’s tongue in his mouth, Junkrat’s hands bold and fast and sure on Roadhog’s dick. Terrified that it would be this good and that he’d never be able to stop. Without meaning to, his hands tightened over Junkrat, over his head and at his hip, and Junkrat grunted and moaned into Roadhogs mouth, arching against him. Already knowing what would happen, Roadhog kept tightening his grip, his big hands wrapped around Junkrat until Junkrat jerked, gasping against Roadhog’s mouth. The long muscles in his thighs and back shuddered, his good foot scraped in the dirt for purchase as he tensed. 

Roadhog chuckled, “Like that?” 

“Hog,” Junkrat snapped. He was raking open his own pants, yanking his shorts open and grunted as he got a hand around himself. 

“Won’t hurt you,” Roadhog eased his grip and stroked over Junkrat’s head, settling around the back of Junkrat’s neck. Junkrat was tough and had taken more from Roadhog in the course of their heists or escapes but he didn’t want…

“Just fuckin wreck me,” Junkrat gasped, derailing Roadhog’s thoughts as he put his hands on either side of Roadhog’s belly, lined his dick up against Roadhog’s and  _ rutted  _ into him. “Want your hands on me Hog, for so fuckin long I’ve wanted you to leave worse than bruises, come on, want you to fuck me open.” Junkrat shut his eyes, mouth open, his body taut as he rutted against Roadhog again, grinding their dicks together up against Roadhog’s belly.

“No,” Roadhog said more abruptly than he meant to and more breathless than usual. 

Junkrat opened his eyes, all ready to argue and Roadhog really  _ was  _ going to have to shut him up.

“Not here, you’d get hurt,” Roadhog clarified shortly, unsure who exactly he was trying to caution. Certainly himself. His hands shook slightly and his heart was beating too fast. What he wanted was going to get them into trouble. Pushing Junkrat down and fucking him open right here was just going to lead to Mercy asking some pointed questions he wasn’t up for answering. 

“Take me back to the simulation and fuck me over a healthpack,” said Junkrat, master strategist. 

Roadhog gave a bark of laughter. “Ok.” 

“Really?” Junkrat tensed, all at once, ready to get up, get going  _ right now _ . 

Roadhog held onto him, “Later,” he growled, “Stay here now.” Stay where I can see you, where I can hold onto you, where I can leave bruises and the heat of your skin is real. He didn’t say that, but he could have, the words for this were easier to find. 

Junkrat gave an impatient little huff and lay over Roadhog’s belly, hand’s on either side, straddling Roadhog’s hips and grinding and thrusting and pushing closer into Roadhog by fitful turns. His head lay over Roadhog’s shoulder and turned automatically when Roadhog tipped his head down for a kiss. 

They sat like that, heat and sweat between them. Gasping, muffled growls and little bites into hot, wet, messy kissing and uncoordinated, slightly desperate rutting. It was rough and hot and impatient and hungry and Roadhog wasn’t letting Junkrat go, he was going to die in a week or a month or in twenty years and it didn’t matter anymore. This was exactly all he’d wanted for he didn’t know how long. 

Then Junkrat snarled into the kiss and shoved himself away. Roadhogs hands tightened unintentionally, pulling him back, and he felt it when Junkrat hissed out a hot little moan and his dick twitched between them. 

“Fuck Hog,” He growled, absently biting messy little kisses into Roadhog’s jaw while his hands stroked up and over his shoulders. “Lemme, keep your hands on me, but let me just…” 

Had to shut this bratup at some point, Roadhog reflected as he nodded and kept his hands on Junkrat as he shifted away and down. Gag maybe. He’d look good in a gag. Probably sound amazing. 

Then Roadhog startled back to attention with a broken little huff as Junkrat ducked his head and took the entire, fat, flushed tip of Roadhog’s dick in his mouth. 

“Rat,” Roadhog grunted in surprise. His thighs shuddered and he couldn’t trust himself to keep his hands on Junkrat’s head just now. He pulled his hands off Junkrat with an effort. 

“No,” Junkrat growled, just barely pulling back, his lips still dragging over the flushed head as he went on. “Put your hands on me Hog.” 

“Can’t,” Roadhog panted, his hot breath was ghost pale in the cool night air. His hands were flat on the ground at his side, fingertips digging into the dirt. His arms were shaking.

“It’s alright,” Junkrat licked up the hard length, hungry and eager, “Alright to use your hands to push me down, in fact Hoggy, please do. I’m going to enjoy fucking choking on you either way.” 

Roadhog shut his eyes and drove dirt under his fingernails as his fingers dug down as Junkrat cupped his length in both hands and cradled it against his mouth. 

“I wasn’t kidding ‘Hog,” Junkrat went on, lips and tongue moving over Roadhogs dick, his voice low and with enough snarl that Roadhog could  _ feel  _ each word. “I want you to fuck me open and push me down and I’ve wanted you, wanted  _ this _ ,” Junkrat pushed a hot, sucking open-mouthed kiss into the head. “To cum inside me for a long fucking time so if you could consider putting that on a to-do list you might keep around…” 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Roadhog growled. His hands were dirty and huge and rough and Junkrat’s head fit easily between his palms. He pulled Junkrat into place and then dragged him down.

He was expecting resistance, expecting Junkrat to panic or cry out or go tense and he was already easing his grip before Junkrat had a chance to react. He wasn’t expecting Junkrat to give a tiny, grateful little whimper and go down easy. So easy. Hungry and greedy and he wasn’t fucking kidding he was ready to choke and enjoy it. Roadhog let out a rasping breath and shuddered, his hands bracketing Junkrat’s head and his eyes shut. 

Junkrat’s hands were overlapped at the base of his dick, warm, scarred skin and hard, cool metal and hot, unexpectedly willing mouth stretched around Roadhog’s dick. Tentatively, Roadhog lifted slightly, and pulled Junkrat back down. Junkrat made another little smug noise and was uncharacteristically obedient as Roadhog fucked himself into Junkrat’s mouth. 

“Jamie,” He tried the name out, whispering it out with a breath just as Junkrat’s throat finally opened and Roadhog pulled Junkrat  _ down _ . 

He was aware of Junkrat reaching up to set his hands flat to Roadhog’s sides, anchoring himself as Roadhog moved his head exactly where and how deep he wanted him. He could hardly breath, couldn’t open his eyes and couldn’t fucking believe his luck that  _ this  _ was where Junkrat was perfectly compliant.

“Jamie,” He gasped, and pushed Junkrat away after a brief internal struggle. He turned his face aside, bit his lip and caught Junkrat’s arm in one hand and his jerking dick in the other. He came hard, snarling against the back of his teeth trying to keep silent, while his thighs shook and the hand around Junkrat’s bicep tightened. And then Junkrat’s mouth pressed to the head of his dick again, wet and hot and sucking, fighting Roadhog’s grip to get back down on him and Roadhog broke his silence and roared. He barely remembered to let Junkrat go before he broke his arm. 

Because of course Junkrat would be more than he could handle. Junkrat had always been more than he could handle. 

“Next time,” Junkrat coughed. “Next time you pull me  _ down _ not  _ away  _ when you do that.” 

“Ok,” Roadhog managed stupidly. He still couldn’t open his eyes, was still shaking and his arms felt hot and a little shivery, like he’d been working out instead of pulling his employer's head against his dick for the last several minutes. Then he managed to process what Junkrat had said, “Wait what.” 

“Want to swallow all of it, not just what I fight you for,” Junkrat coughed again. 

His voice was rough and wrecked and Roadhog was never, ever going to hear him talk again without remembering the sound of Junkrat’s voice after he let Roadhog fuck his throat and choke him with his dick. “Ok,” He breathed, “Next time.”

“You hear me ‘Hog?” Junkrat patted Roadhog’s belly. “Oi, you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Roadhog was still savouring everything, committing it to memory. The way Junkrat’s head had fit between his hands. The heavy, hot feeling of bone deep satisfaction. The sweat cooling on his chest and back. “Yeah, hey, come here.” 

“Wha,” Junkrat came easily again, everything with him was easy like this. He let Roadhog pull him up until he was standing with Roadhog between his spread legs. “Hoggy,” Junkrat breathed. 

Junkrat was hard and weeping, an inch from Roadhog’s mouth, his shorts gaping open over blond curls and flushed skin and Roadhog sighed out a breath straight over Junkrat’s dick. 

“Hog,” Junkrat’s hands were flat on the wall above Roadhog’s head. “Please…” 

Roadhog’s hands wrapped around Junkrat’s waist, then a little lower, over his hips and back, fingers pressing into Junkrat’s skinny ass and pulling him forward. 

“Fuck, Hog please,” Junkrat let out a whine and fought for breath, sinking into Roadhog’s mouth. 

Roadhog felt coarse hair and hot skin against his nose and Junkrat’s knees buckled on either side of him. He eased one hand down Junkrat’s thigh and tugged gently. It didn’t take much. Junkrat would do anything he wanted apparently, and let Roadhog guide one leg up and hook over his shoulder. He kept moving Junkrat with his other hand, pushing and pulling him in deep. He’d been hungry for this, wanted it for longer than he’d cared to admit to himself. 

Junkrat settled some weight onto Roadhog’s shoulder and leaned his head against his forearms on the wall. “Fuck me running Hog you look nice with my dick in your mouth. Can’t believe how good you look under that mask, never, ah fuck, never would have believed…” He broke off with a gasp as Roadhog dragged his teeth along Junkrat’s length. Teeth worked then. Possibly a gag wouldn’t actually be necessary. 

“Mako,” Junkrat groaned, and his left hand dropped down to Roadhog’s head, tugging out the tie and running his fingers through Roadhog’s hair. “Didn’t think, fucking hoped and wanted and goddamn dreamed of this for fucking years and never thought I’d get to see this, never thought I’d get your dick in my mouth or likewise, honestly you’re a remarkably fair minded man ain’t you?” 

Nevermind, a gag was going to be essential. Roadhog tightened his hand over Junkrat’s hip and snaked his other hand under Junkrat’s thigh, pressing his hand flat against Roadhog’s lower back. 

“Didn’t know you were such a looker though,” Junkrat said softly, his left hand trailed over the scars on Roadhog’s cheek, cupped his fingers under his jaw and shuddered again. His dick twitched heavy and hot on Roadhog’s tongue. “Can feel myself in your fucking throat,” Junkrat shuddered. 

Roadhog pressed Junkrat a little more firmly in and let the hand flat on his back to trail down a little, dragging Junkrat’s shorts down slightly until he could run the tips of his fingers down Junkrat’s ass, between his cheeks. 

“Fuck Hog,” Junkrat gasped and for the first time, his hips stuttered, fighting Roadhog’s grip, unsure whether to push back or forwards. 

Roadhog pressed his fingers in, dragging Junkrat forward and rubbing the tip of his middle finger against Junkrat’s opening. It was meant to be a promise, and Roadhog felt Junkrat jerk again on his tongue when he pressed a little harder.

“Hog, ‘m gonna, Hog please I can’t, Mako, Mako please…” Junkrat was breathless, fighting to get one word after another out as both his hands clutched at Roadhog’s hair. 

Roadhog tightened his grip, pressed his finger against him, and grunted as Junkrat came over his tongue. Then Roadhog kept Junkrat exactly in place as he sucked and licked and swallowed and milked the last of everything Junkrat had in him. Junkrat went slack around him, panting and whimpering out pleas and obscene half-formed promises and filthy little moans. He couldn’t stand on his own when Roadhog gently pulled Junkrat away and down, shrugging his thigh off his shoulder and settling Junkrat back down against his belly.

“Thanks mate,” Junkrat gasped finally. He was draped over Roadhog’s chest, head lolling under Roadhog’s chin, arms hanging limp with his mouth open and eyes closed. “Fuck.” 

Roadhog stroked slowly down Junkrat’s back, licked his lips and scuffed the backs of his fingers over Junkrat’s cheek. 

“I’m not kidding about you fucking me over a health-pack,” Junkrat managed between breaths. “You know what, I don’t care if it’s over a healthpack. I’m want you fucking me open until I can’t scream anymore.” 

“I know,” Roadhog nuzzled his chin against Junkrat’s forehead. “I will.” 

“Thank Christ.” Junkrat let out a breath of relief. 

They had to sit together for a while, until Junkrat started shivering and Roadhog was able to move him, under protest, and tuck himself back into his overalls. Junkrat managed to make himself as decent as he ever was, and waited, still panting with his eyes shut on his ground while Roadhog climbed to his feet. 

“Hog, carry me up will ya?” Junkrat blinked up at him, bright-eyed and that same hooked little grin. He had drying lines of cum down his long cheek, but not near his mouth where he’d licked it off.

Roadhog was already stooping to scoop Junkrat into his arms. “Hold on,” He growled. He didn’t have to tell him. Junkrat was already snuggled up against his chest, his face pressing up under his chin. 

“Hold onto me,” Junkrat murmured. He was grinning, the giddy, wild smile Roadhog had seen so often after their successful heists, or survived a particularly dangerous run. He pressed a kiss to Roadhog’s chest. 

“You’re already bruised,” Roadhog grunted. He felt deliciously heavy and warm and slightly weak. Junkrat his familiar counterweight in his arms, so easy to carry. 

“So a few more won’t hurt,” Junkrat’s left hand went to Roadhog’s hair again, loose around his shoulders. It was silky between Junkrat’s fingers. 

Roadhog tipped his head down, and Junkrat turned to find his mouth and kissed him, slow and open mouthed and lazy, as Roadhog walked them back up to the Watchpoint. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy I sure hope you guys enjoyed this, because in case you're wondering why it's late on a Monday when this is going up it's entirely because I nearly chickened out and deleted it all. I love these horrible soft boys and hope you do too.   
> Thank you very much for sticking through to the end. There may be an epilogue to this, since I love them so much and there's a lot more to do. Let me know if you want to see some more? Either here in the comments or at my tumblr, leoandlancer.tumblr.com/ask and I'd love to hear if you have any requests!   
> I update Mondays, last week was a McHanzo PWP and next Monday will be a Reaper76 PWP... Are you sensing a pattern because there's a pattern.   
> This work was unbeta'd so any horribly embarrassing grammar or spelling mistakes are my own fault, and I apologize.


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